The Black Wolf
by German Storyteller
Summary: After an unfortunate hunt, Witcher Kaleb of Rivia returns wounded to his quest giver. The hunt was successful, but his steel sword was lost. Every other Witcher would just get a new one, but not this one. A traveler offers his help and what follows are trouble and adventure... - Set after the events of The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt and therefore contains SPOILERS!
1. Introduction

**Welcome to my next project, finally another fanfiction! :P  
This one is merely the introduction, to have everyone up to date!**

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 **The Witcher: The Black Wolf**

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 _ **Introduction:**_

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 _"Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling... Makes no difference._

 _The degree is arbitrary, the definition's blurred._

 _But if I'm to choose between one evil and another..._

 _I'd rather not choose at all."_

 _._

Those famous words, uttered by Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf. A Witcher that has indeed done many good things in his life. However, this story shall not be about him, but rather about the adventures of another Witcher, that would make a name for himself with at least the same reputation - The Black Wolf.

To have everyone on the most recent standing:

After Radovid's death, Redania was powerless and soon Nilfgaard took over, spreading their black banners all over the country. Soon Temeria would be restored, turns out fate can be quite a trickster at times. Emperor Emhyr var Emreis however had everyone who had plotted against him executed without any mercy. That includes soliders, nobles, merchants.

While the continent still bled engulfed by war, it was Skellige of all places which would bloom under a young woman's enlightened rule. With Cerys an Craite the island nation would prosper as she tended to her people rather than raiding shores of foreign lands.

Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, heir to Nilfgaard's throne was never seen again after the events on Undvik. There are multiple theories on wether the ashen haired woman survived, some rumours claim she's still alive and continues on her path as Witcher, trained by her father-figure, Geralt of Rivia.

Oh, and what about Geralt?

Well, it's is indeed hard to believe, but the White Wolf settled down in faraway Kovir, along his partner, Triss Merigold. He would take jobs, but only of habit, while Triss made a true fortune as mage advisor to the king.

Though wounded by the war, the Northern Kingdoms seemed to slowly regain it's former, almost ancient, glory. Some don't even remember what it was, having lived in a time without a war. Well, they shouldn't get to used to it.

Velen had suffered the worst, by far. Some doubted that it could ever be safe to walk through the no man's land, as bandits roamed through the woods, as did other threats...


	2. Lectures

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

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 **Chapter 1:** Lectures

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" _A Witcher can forget to eat, he can forget to drink, to sleep even, but never forget to care for you blades, for it can save your life_... And I lost it. I can already hear Vesemir's voice lecturing me..."

It was a dark and rainy night and the atmosphere within the small inn resembled it. It was silent, here and there a few laughters, by the few people inside, but everything turned entirely pin-drop silent as another visitor would enter. On his back were too scabbards, yet only one sword, under his arms he had clutched some bags and in his left hand he held a small bag, which was dripping, while the other hand was pressed against his sides. Everyone seemed to freeze at their spot as they stared at the stranger, he wore an unusual armor, but that wasn't the main focus, no, this one lay on the silver medallion around his neck and his cat-like eyes – this man was a Witcher.

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The innkeeper, a middle aged man with a big, red nose and a red mustache, approached him, blocking his path,

"So, I see you've returned," he said, his loud voice drawing the attention of even the last guest to them, "Have you been successful?"

The raven haired witcher set himself upright, though obviously in pain as he did so, "The job is done," he grunted with a deep and gritty voice as he threw the bag in his left hand before the feet of the innkeeper. The bag slightly opened, as it hasn't been properly tied, a dark red, almost black liquid drooled out of it.

"How dare you stain the floor of my inn with the remains of this creature?!" the innkeeper shouted furiously, "Begone!"

"Not before I've been payed," the Witcher grated.

For a short moment the fat innkeeper hesitated, before disobediently taking out a small pouch with coins. The Witcher counted it, "This is not what we agreed."

"It is more than enough for you! I've kept a fee for the mess you've made here."

With his dark yellow eyes, the Witcher stared him down, his look expressing pure anger, "Listen, you fat fuck," he grunted, "I may be hurt, but I'm still a better fighter than anyone inside this inn and you'd make a great mistake in angering a Witcher."

Though frightened, the innkeeper stood tall, as a few men rushed to his aid, standing in front of the mutant, "You should be grateful that he gave you anything!" One man said, "If it were me, I'd 'ave already thrown you out of 'ere, mutant scum!"

As the rambling went on, one member of the crowd stepped out to stand on the Witcher's sight, "Stop it, everyone!" By the looks of it, of his attire he was nothing but a mere farmer, maybe traveler. Strapped to his waist was an old steel sword, "He saved you from a monster, didn't he? He resolved your problem, didn't he? I think it's only fair that you pay the agreed price, messy floor or not."

The Witcher, as much as anyone else, found himself suprised by the courage of the young man, though it didn't seem to be for long. Yet it seemed enough to awake that last bit of decency within the innkeeper and his guests and he was persuaded to hand over the rest of the payment to the wounded Witcher.

"Where is your horse?" the innkeeper asked as he gave him the payment, "You did have one when you arrived, didn't you?"

"Didn't make it." The raven haired Witcher grated as he turned around to leave. As he did so, the young man was stood before him, "Wait, you don't look like you should be wandering about," he said, "I want to invite you to share my room, you should rest after such a fight."

"Thanks, but I'll be fine."

"No, I insist."

.

It was rather obvious that the Witcher didn't feel all too comfortable having been invited to share the room with this traveler, he had a feeling that there was more than good will behind this. It wasn't before he had placed his belongings in the room, that the Witcher learned, that the traveler had a habit of talking, "So, I see you're wearing the armour of the Ursine school of Witchers," the young man said, pointing out the mostly black gambeson with the dark brown leather pads and chainmail, which was traditional for the 'Bear School', though it had different colours. Also noticably was, that his coat covered only one sleeve, leaving the other exposing the white shirt which he wore underneath, of which he had rolled up the sleeve. A second look went towards the silver medallion, which was shaped like a wolf, "And accordingly to your medallion, you must be a member of the Wolf School." he went on, "Then why aren't you wearing your school's traditional attire? And why are you missing one of your swords?"

"I'd ask why you know all this about Witchers, but I don't want to hear you talk anymore, so do me a favour and shut up."

"Oh, alright, I get it! I won't ask anymore questions for now." he then looked at his wounds, "But don't you want to take care of this wound?"

"Yes," the Witcher replied while searching through one of his pouches, eventually taking out a small bottle, containing a green liquid. As soon as he swallowed it, green veins appeared all over his body as he grunted painfully. Noticably was also that his eyes briefly glowed. It was a quick process, taking maybe half a minute.

"So that is how it looks when a Witcher drinks a potion." the traveler mumbled, going through his strawy, brown hair. He studied his roommate, from his shoulder long black hair, of which some was tied to a ponytail behind his head, to his scruffy beard and his scars. There was one going right through his left eye, though it was left unharmed. It started just above his eyebrow and ended at his cheek. Another one met his lower lip, it was still visible through the beard. He was wondering how many scars his entire body beared. His skin was pale, of course that was to be expected by someone who came out of a storm like this and was also bleeding, yet it would still stand out, even if only slightly. According to his wrinkles he looked like he was in his mid thirties, though, knowing that a Witcher's aging is slowed down due to their mutation, he could be much older.

Though curious, the young man would keep his questions to himself and rather ask another time. Given, that he'll ever have this opportunity. It is true, that the Witchers have caught his interest since he was smaller and since he's heard those tales of Geralt of Rivia and his adventures, his wish was to meet one. To be fair, he imanigened it a bit differently.

"Why did you do it?" the Witcher asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Standing up for me. It's not everyday that someone defends a Witcher."

"I guess you could call it 'good will'? I like to help where help is due, Witcher."

Just guessing by the yellow eyed look, the Witcher didn't believe him, "I'm honest, I saw how they were treating you, a wounded man, no less, and, well, I could never watch something like that and not interfere."

The raven haired mutant remained silent for a brief moment, before speaking up as he sat up from his bed, "So you want me to believe that you acted without any second thought, just because you wanted to help?"

The traveler hesitated for moment to think about this statement, "um... yes, that's about right."

The Witcher narrowed his eyes, looking at him with a look of confusion as he raised an eyebrow in disbelief. It was obvious, that he still had a hard time believing, "What's your name, kid?" he finally asked.

"Elron. Elron Farroe," he held out his hand, only for it to be met with another suspicious looked, as the the Witcher crossed his arms, causing an akward silence, "And what about you?" Elron finally asked.

For another moment he remained silent, presumably to think wether he should answer or not. Finally he gave in, "Kaleb of Rivia. And to answer your questions, yes I am a member of the Wolf School of Witchers and I prefer this set of armour, just because."

Was he finally warming up, then? Elron wanted to try it out, "Nice to make your acquaintance, then. But one question remains: What of your second sword?"

Kaleb walked towards the window, looking out of it, into the distance, "That's the problem. On this last job, the reason why I am here, I was ambushed, while I fought this Leshen. I don't know _how_ they did it, but I'll make sure to get it back as soon as possible."

The brown haired man nodded briefly, "I understand. That is indeed bad, though, wouldn't it be easier to get a new one?"

This seemed to aggravate him as Kaleb quickly turned towards his roommate, "I can't just do that! You don't understand what this is about!" he barked, startling the young man.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know..." Elron mumbled, "But, what if I help you find it?"

"No thanks, I'll do it myself. Last thing I need is you slowing me down on my travels."

"Don't worry, I promise not to be a burden! I know my ways around a forest and how to be silent, also I've been told to be a good tracker!"

His look told Elron, that the Witcher was considering it, "Where are you from?"

"Oxenfurt, and given your title, you're from Rivia?"

"Actually I'm from Toussaint, but being raised by the _White Wolf_ , I've adapted his ways, the rivian accent, you get it." Kaleb explained. Elron couldn't help but notice the slightly cynical tone of the Witcher as he said 'White Wolf'.

"You were _raised_ by _the_ Geralt of Rivia? The White Wolf?"

"Well, more like a younger brother being raised by his big brother, while the father was out, dealing with his own problems. He's not that much older than me."

"But final question," Elron said finally, "Can I come with you, or not?"

The raven haired man lay down on his bed, "Sunrise. If you're not up at sunrise, ready to go, I'll leave you back, do you understand?"

"Understood!" Elron lit up, this was the opportunity of a lifetime! He'd experience lots of adventures and meet lots of different people, save damsels in distress! He couldn't wait for it!

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	3. On The Road

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2:** On The Road

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Witcher Kaleb didn't fool around when he said ' _at sunset_ ', he literally meant the first streaks of light touching the earth, apparently. Young Elron almost missed him as he was already leaving the inn. It seems like the Witcher didn't want to spend more time than neccessary in there, but who could blame him.

"Witcher! Wait up!" Kaleb did as told, though it seemed he'd rather have it otherwise, "So you made it?" he commented upon being called. When he turned around he saw the young man, his hair still messy from the sleep and his boots not properly tied, his shirt half unbottened. Also he carried his jacket underneath his arm, thinking he wouldn't manage in time otherwise. Kaleb rolled his eyes, "Fix your clothes first, I've not that little time." he said, crossing his arms and shifting his weight onto his left foot.

"Where are we headed anyway?"

"To the nearest village, it's not too far from here." Kaleb explained, "There's a contract waiting for us." The raven haired man took out a roll of paper.

"And what are we to face?" Elron asked.

"That's what we're going to find out once we get there."

The march to the village would take about an hour, without horses, which neither of the men possessed.

Weirdly enough was, that the Witcher was the one to start the conversation, "What are you doing here anyway? All by yourself." he asked.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed by any chance, but I've come from a rather noble family and as such I've had a quite dull life thus far. It's been my dream since I was young to just.. to just go out there and see the world, escaping my planned out life. This may sound a bit odd, but I've always wanted to live on the road. Two weeks ago I started this... new chapter of my life and I'm looking forward to what it might bring me."

"A 26 year old who wants to see the world. Interesting," the Witcher mumbled, more to himself than his companion.

"How did you know I'm 26 years old?"

"It's the way you act, of course how you look and how you talk about your ambitions. Maybe I'm a too old fashioned, but this is exactly how I'd picture a man in his mid-twenties."

"Seems as though you have met an awful lot of people, then, huh?"

"Indeed," The Witcher looked into the distant sky, it seemed almost nostalgic, "I don't get to meet the same people that often, though, which is a shame sometimes."

His voice had a slight tone of regret to it, but Elron dared not to ask further at this point.

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They could already see the fences, which served as a restriction for the fields. There was no one working on them, though.. It definitely wasn't because it was too early, that didn't seem to be the problem. It was a picturesque sight, seeing the small village slowly awaking from it's slumber as the sun rose behind a hill in the distance. However, the beauty of the scene would be interrupted as they passed a small shrine with a small painting of someone surrounded by candles and flowers – the sign that someone had died. Seeing this didn't leave Elron easily, maybe this was one of the victims of whatever posed a threat to this village. The Witcher however seemed like he couldn't care less, not even paying it a second look. Maybe it was true what they say about Witchers, they are number than most folks, not able to feel because of their mutations.

They were soon met by an elderly man in a green robe with a collar on it, presumably the head of this community, "Ah, a Witcher! I'm glad you've arrived." he said.

"Pleasure's all mine," the Witcher replied in an almost cynically uninterested tone, "My apprentice and me are here for the contract, as you've already guessed."

"Uh, yes, I'm guessing you'd like to head straight to business?"

"Why don't you give me the gist of what you know and then we'll talk about a reward. Spare the details for after we've decided that." Kaleb instructed.

"Of course." the chief agreed, "So, as you've certainly read, thus far there were two casualties of which we know off. People have been vanishing over the last week, four in total, including the dead. It must've happened in the deepest night, because no one saw the beast, the only thing we could hear was a morbid scream, like nothing I've ever heard before. It left a footprint on one of the fields, which have remained untouched since the first incident." the old man then folded his hands over his head and bowed down in a begging gesture, "Please, I beg of you master Witcher, save my village!"

Elron saw the obvious despair in his eyes, it seemed as though they wouldn't have to fear rude comments about Witchers from him. They noticed the other villages to come out of their houses and gather around them. Men, women and children all with looks of hope, fear and expectance on their faces.

"You can look up again, old man, don't make this more akward than it already is." Kaleb mumbled, so only the three of them could hear it, "You know, from what you tell me I have about hundred options of what we could be dealing with here. I've an idea," he then went on to raise his voice, so that everyone would hear him, "Why won't _someone_ bring us to this footprint so we can inspect it to know what I have to prepare for. Afterwards we'll discuss the reward accordingly."

It wasn't long until a hunter from the village volunteered himself to guide them to said field. The elder man accompanied them. Kaleb needed to take but a short look at it to recognise the threat, "Old man, we can about a reward."

"Alright, then, what is it you desire?"

"First of all, I want 235 Floren, I think that's a generous price, given for what I have to face. Then I need to know if you have a capable blacksmith. Lastly, I want you to tell me everything about unusual bandit activities within this region. Everything that occured over the last weeks up to this day."

The elder scratched his head, "Sounds manageable. Yes, we do have a blacksmith, I'm certain he'll be able to fullfill your needs. And about the bandits-"

"Tell me once I've brought you the beasts head." Kaleb interrupted, sending the two men back to the village.

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"So," Elron began, "What are we facing?"

"A fiend and a rather unusual one."

"Unusual, why?"

"Look around, this region doesn't have any dense forrests, right?"

Elron shook his head comfirmingly.

"And neither does it have bogs or swamps, this is farmland, smaller forrests, yes, but not even hilly, so what is a fiend doing here? This is not their natural habitat." According to the concerned look on the Witcher's face, he had a suspect of what was going on, though Elron was sure that he wouldn't receive a proper answer.

"And what is the plan?" the young man asked.

"I'm not sure. It's not my first fiend, but what about you? How experienced are you at fighting monsters?"

"I'll have you know that I know my way around various threats. I've once fought off a bandit that threatened to attack my sister. I've also fought wolves on my travels."

"Good for you." Kaleb grumbled as he inspected the footprint, "But I doubt you've ever encountered a beast, three times your size with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth, three eyes and massive antlers." He took out an old book from one of the bags, there was a wolf's head, the same one as on the medallion of the Witcher, with the word 'Bestiary' written underneath it, "Look what it says about fiends."

Hastily Eloren scrolled through the pages until he reached his destination:

 _'Fiends are walking mountains of muscle capped with horned, tooth-filled heads. Like their rarer cousins, bumbakvetches, they live in thick forests, swamps and bogs. When possible they avoid humans, but when not possible, they kill them, and without much difficulty._

 _Their size alone makes fiends and bumbakvetches extremely dangerous – one blow from their powerful paws can kill a horse along with it's fully armored mount. Their enormous heft also makes them invulnerable to Aard: even Witchers specializing in the power of Signs could not move one even an inch. Furthermore, any wounds they receive heal at lightning speed._

 _If that weren't trouble enough, fiends need not rely on their strength and stamina alone with fighting. They can also call on a more refined weapon: the third eye located in the center of their forehead, which they use to draw their prey into a state of hypnosis. During these times their victim does not see anything beyond this single burning eye – the last thing they see before their death._

 _A fiend's only weakness is its fear of loud noises – bombs such as Samum or Devil's Puffball are thus quite effective when fighting this monster. Furthermore, a blade covered in relict oil can increase a Witcher's chances of victory – or at least of walking away from the fight.'_

Elron felt his heart sinking into his pants upon reading those lines. This must be a beast to be reconned with... He tried to shrug his fears off, replacing them with curiousity, "What is ' _Aard_ '?" he asked.

"Aard is one of the five signs a Witcher can perform. There is Aard, Igni, Quen, Yrden and Axii. Aard is a blast of telekinetic energy. It's like a push, but without contact and much stronger." Kaleb explained. His look fell onto a small forrest, where he saw broke down trees, "This is a big one, huh." he mumbled to himself.

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As they returned to the village, they went to the blacksmith. It was a middle-aged man with a rather noticable bolding spot and an unkempt full beard, "G'day, can I help ye, Witcher?" he asked.

"Not me, but him," Kaleb replied pointing at his companion. He made a step forward, drawing Elron's sword before he could even react, "You see this toothpick? I want you to craft a him a proper sword, fit for his.. um.. stature. I can't be too heavy and not too big, it should be able to held with one hand, but also with two. Coin is not the problem. Also it should have a silver edge."

"A silver edge, huh?" the blacksmith repeated, "Are we goin' monster huntin' there, young man?" he commented, which was left unresponded, "Aye, I can do something with that. The blade should be finished in two days, starting today and it will cost you 446 Floren."

"Sounds payable, I think we have an agreement." Kaleb nodded before the two shook hands.

"446 Floren? Don't you think that's a bit too expensive to pay for someone like me? Do you even have that much on you?" Elron asked.  
"Me?" Kaleb gave him a perplexed look, "You said, you're a noble, didn't ya? You're going to pay that yourself!" he patted him on the chest before walking away, "See it as an investment to assure your survival."

"Right... thanks, Witcher..."

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	4. A F(r)iendly Request

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3:** A F(r)iendly Request

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The Witcher and his 'apprentice' walked towards the house of the Alderman, to ask him about the victims. On their way they were met by both fearful and angry looks, but also hopeful ones. Inside they asked about relatives and friends of the victims, which would lead to the next step before going after the monster itself.

The first one was a young woman, probably around Elron's age. She immediatly caught his eye, "Can I help you with something?" she asked, going through her fiery red hair.

"Are you Sarah? We would like to ask you some questions about Roland. We heard you were good friends with him." Kaleb said. There was a noticable change of tone, from the grunting cynical one to a more calm, empathetic tone as he saw the dried tear stains in her face.

"Well, wasn't everyone?"she replied rhetorically, "He was such a nice person, always friendly to everyone. Nobody here liked him, but it's true, we got along best. I've known since I can think." Sarah said.

"Could you please tell us what you remember of the night he... um.. of the night when he died?" the Witcher asked carefully. Even though he was talking more empathetic, he didn't sugarcoat the situation.

"He isn't dead!" the woman protested, "We didn't find his body, so that doesn't mean he is dead!"

"Alright, then, what do you remember of the night he vanished?" he corrected himself.

"Not much, he was over for dinner, we talked and afterwards he left. Nothing unusual..." the red haired woman explained.

Elron was unsure. Why would this have to do anything with the case?

"Sarah." Kaleb said, bending his knees a little to see eye to eye with her. He was indeed a tall man, at least 6,3ft, "If there is anything, no matter how unimportant it may seem, tell us."

The young woman sighed, "There was something... He seemed a bit.. disoriented and kept bumping into things. At first I thought he was drunk, but he was able to talk properly."

"Alright, that should be everything we need for now." Kaleb finally said, "If there's anything else you recall, tell us, please."

Before they could leave however, the young woman grabbed tightly onto the Witcher's armour, "Please, you have to save him! I know that he's still out there!" she begged desperately.

Kaleb took her hands, holding them tightly, "I give you my word as Witcher that we will bring him back."

.

And with that they left, on their way to the next house, "What does this tell us, exactly? How is disorientation connected to the beast?" Elron asked.

"Fiends have three eyes," Kaleb began, "And with the third eye in the middle, they are able to emit hypnotic spells, they usually don't last for very long, but in the meantime you can't see jack shit, which also means disorientation. Given that he was able to see at least something, the fiend must've been far away. But that wouldn't explain why it hit exactly him that night."

"Also, do you think he's still alive?"

"Honestly, I doubt it, but I'm open to be taught otherwise."

Just then they heard someone calling for them from behind, "Oi,Witcher!" it turned out be a rather large man with a fat, pockmarked nose and brown hair. He was accompanied by three other men, and all of them were armed, which stood out from the rest of the villagers, who didn't carry any weapons with them.

"Your not welcome here, mutant." he said.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to stay for too long." Kaleb returned to his pissed off, gritty voice.

"That's correct, you have ten minutes." the man added.

"Ten? That seems awfully short to kill a fiend." Kaleb replied sarcastically, "Give me a day or two, that seems better. I mean, you don't want the people of your village to die... one by one.."

"No and that is exactly why I'm sending you away, mutant! Don't you think I wouldn't know about you and your habit of abducting children to turn them into the likes of you!"

"I don't need this." Kaleb grunted, "Come on, Elron." the Witcher turned around, making his leave, when suddenly someone threw a stone into his direction. However, it didn't hit, because the raven haired man was able to catch it just before it touched his head. He dropped it on the ground and continued his walk.

"Don't you run away from me, coward!" They heard footsteps approaching them quickly from behind, suddenly a strong hand grabbed Kaleb's shoulder, to stop him in his path, but before anyone had even fully realized the situation, the Witcher had turned around and was now holding a knife at the throat of his opponent, "You can't even imagine how gladly I'd kill you in front of everyone, but I'm holding back because I have more important things to do and I advise you to stay away from me if you don't want to fullfill my wish." the Witcher hissed before pushing the opponent back.

"You heard him!" Elron added provocatively.

"Shut up."

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After the last people were asked, and some... sexual requests were denied they returned to the footprint.

"Does that happen often?" Elron asked.

"What?"

"You know... with the women..."

"Oh... yes, I guess you could say it happens from time to time."

Elron thought about how none of the women even payed him a second look. Now, he wasn't the ugliest of men, his beard was a bit patchy and because of the travels he wasn't able to tend to it properly, but that was that. His hair was a bit outgrown, but it wasn't too wild, once he combed it. Maybe it were the scars? Or that Kaleb was much better build than him? For a moment he thought that it may be because of the eyes... But that would be ridiculous. The same eyes that struck fear into the hearts of men would woo the women? No, this couldn't be it.

"Okay," Kaleb rose up again, "Time to go."

"Go where?" Elron was thrown out of his thoughts.

"There." the Witcher pointed at a spot in the small forrest, where trees were torn down.

"You know, I have a theory." Elron said, "What if all those people who's bodies were never found _are_ still alive and the hypnosis was to follow the fiend into it's lair."

"And what do you think would it do there?" Kaleb questioned rhetorically.

"I know, but a part of me wants to believe that they are still out there. You said it yourself, something's not right about this situation, with fiend suddenly appearing in a region like this."

The look on the black haired one's face told Elron that he was at least considering the opportunity eventhough he didn't comment on it. Just before they entered Kaleb stopped, putting his arm in front of his companion to stop him, "Wait," he said, "Don't you think this is a bit odd?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the trees, they don't grow around here. They only grow-"

"In thick forrests, right?"

"Exactly. Also look how they are torn down, you'd think the other trees would also be affected by a beast that size."

The Witcher got closer to the trees, inspecting them. The placement of them didn't look usual, not even taking to account that they aren't supposed to grow here,

"Go back to the village," Kaleb said, "I'll catch up with you after I'm done here."

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Curious as to what his companion was planning, but also knowing that protesting wouldn't help, Elron returned to the village. He tried his best to avoid those men from before as good as possible, not wanting to get in trouble. On his way he passed the blacksmith, he could see him working on his weapon as he slammed the hammer on a glowing piece of steel. Elron wondered what the silver edge was for.

The hours passed and still no sign of the Witcher, which worried the young man. He looked for the tavern and decided to wait there until his companion would arrive. He heard loud, drunken laughter and clanking of mugs. The four men from before were also there, getting drunk, while Sarah, who seemed to work as a sever, brought them new beverages. It suited the picture, the pretty face of the village working in a place like this. The look on her face expressed that she was still mourning, also she didn't seem entirely focused on her job.

Elron sat down on a lone place, rather secluded from the rest of the noise. Outside he saw the sun setting, was it already this late? How the time flies...

The tender voice of a young woman ripped him once more out of his melancholic thoughts. It was Sarah, asking what he could bring him.

But before Elron could reply, a male voice from another table shouted towards them, "Don't bother with 'im, lovely! 'e's but a mutant's boot licker, I'm sure lad's not drinkin' anythin'." followed by roudy laughter.

"Don't listen to them," Sarah sighed warmheartedly, "I've seen how they treated you and your friend earlier, and I hope you can excuse their behavior."

"Don't worry, I don't mind an insult or two." Elron smiled, "And I'll have a mead, thank you."

The young woman nodded before hurrying back to the counter.

For a brief moment, the ill-hearted looks of the four men met Elron's mischievious grin, when the young maid returned with Elron's order, "Here you go, sir." she said. Before she returned to her duties however, she asked a single question, "By the way, may I know your name?"

"Elron Farroe."

"Elron Farroe, I'll remember it." With a cute and lovely smile she returned to her duties.

It wasn't long before finally the Witcher returned, his face expressing nothing. Normally anyone would say that he looked annoyed or a bit angry, but that was just the way he usually looked, as Elron would often mistake. He sat down on the bench in front of him, "So, what did you find out?" Elron ask.

"Something much more worrying that I expected." Kaleb began, "One would never notice directly, but the two torn down trees are some kind of _portal_ , to a thick forrest. I found that it leads to an unihabited island, known for it's dense forrests and therefore high count of monsters. Turns out one of the fiends escaped, or exits regularly to bring victims to his lair, given that they don't die during the assault."

"I'm excited for the twist of this story." Erlon commented.

The Witcher sighed and nodded agreeingly, "Those trees didn't grow there, no seeds were placed. Someone must've brought them there and created this portal. I must add, that whoever is responsible for this portal must be a quite powerful mage, or maybe it was a witch, I don't know."

"And you're saying that someone from the village is responsible for that?"

"I'm merely implying it." the Witcher replied in a sarcastic tone.

"I think this would explain why only specific people were picked. Now we only have to find a connection between the victims."

"Indeed, and I think that _she_ can help us," Kaleb pointed at Sarah, who was currenlty asking some guests for their order.

"Sarah? Why do you think she could help us?" Elron wondered.

"She was Roland's best friend, wasn't she? I wonder how close they actually were."

"And who's your number one suspect?"

"As stereotypical for a story like this it may sound, but I think that our dear stone tosser over there has something to do with it. Way I heard it from the Alderman he's had his eyes on the young lady for quite a while."

"So," Elron continued, "He would hire someone powerful enough to not only conjure such a portal but also control fiends so that any contenders would vanish."

"Exactly." the Witcher sat himself in a more comfortable position, "But I've even better news. I've found the missing one." he had conspiciously raised his voice, so that the fire red haired woman would hear it. Immediatly she walked up to them, not showing that she overheard their conversation, "Oh, good evening, master Witcher, what can I bring you?" she asked.

"I'll have a mead and a smile on your face, young lady. Roland's back." the Witcher replied.

The woman contained herself not to burst in excitement about the news, but she couldn't help the few tears which built in her eyes – tears of joy this time, "Is it true, what you speak of, master Witcher?!" she gasped, "Where is he?"

"He's currently resting in the Alderman's house." The Witcher noticed the four men furiously raising from their seats and storming outside, "No I haven't." he added.

"I don't quite seem to follow...?"

"He's at your house, safe and sound. I've spoken loud enough to raise those brutes' attention, they're probably heading to his place now. I've had the Alderman send the villages doctor to tend to his wounds. I think you should go and see him now."

Hastily nodding, Sarah left the tavern, leaving an older woman behind the counter wondering, what's happened, "Where's the lass off to now?" she wondered.

Kaleb walked up to her, dropping a small pouch filled with coins, "This should cover it."

Outside Elron and Kaleb first walked to the Alderman's hut at the other end of the road. They could already see the men banging on his door.

"Why did you do that? Pay the woman to excuse the girl? I mean, that was more money that we would earn on this contract!"

The Witcher waited for a short moment to reply. Elron who stood behind him, saw a faint smile on his face, the first time as he recalled it, as he looked into the distance, towards the woman's house,

"Sometimes, some things are worth the expenses."

.


	5. Silver And Steel

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4:** Silver And Steel

.

It was the early noon of the next day, as the cool spring breeze blowing over the fields. Inside Sarah's house was the since yesterday returned Roland, who was still resting from his injuries from the fight with the fiend. Thus far neither the Witcher nor Elron were able to ask any of the two a question. However, they noticed a rising tension in the village. On one side were the happy villagers, glad to be reunited with one of the their most beloved members and on the other side were not only the people who distrusted the Witcher to begin with, no accusing him of having cast a spell on Roland's corpse to revive him and have him attack the village – no seriously, but of course also the four drunken thugs, who seemed a problem from the start.

Kaleb sat on a stone at the edge of the village, sharpening his steel sword when Elron, who had further tried to talk to Sarah and Roland, joined up with him.

"Did you find anything out?" the Witcher asked without looking up from his blade.

"In fact, I did. Turns out our suspects were right. I asked around a bit in the village, and the rumours have existed for years now. And given how close they apparently are, I think this rumour has some truth to it." Elron explained.

"And fatso?" Kaleb asked, "How does he fit in all this?" This time he stopped the whetting and looked up from his trusty sword.

"That's Samuel, he's the son of the former blacksmith of this village. However, now he only occassionally helps out, seeing as he is not really fit for this craft. Everyone knows that he's had an eye on Sarah, who, as I just found out, is the niece of the Alderman and the last remaining member of their blood besides him." the noble continued, "I think, he seeks to claim the position of chief of this village, at which he would succeed by marrying into the family."

"So," Kaleb took over, "In order to accomplish that, he has to get rid of every competition. And a man like him would resort to any means necessary to reach his goal."

.

In the course of the evening they gathered everyone in the center of the village, at sun set.

"So, Witcher," the Alderman stepped out of the crowd, "Did you take care of the beast?"

"It seems that we have another problem entirely," Witcher Kaleb began, dodging the initial question, "Let me tell you something about fiends." he said, "Fiends are three eyed, were-elk-motherfuckers with hypnotic powers. Also, they aren't supposed to be in an enviroment like this, the same goes for a special tree species, which only grows in Skellige. But that's only the intro, the real joke's about to happen."

It seemed odd that apparently no one but Elron noticed the angered and vicious tone of his traveling companion as he told his ' _joke_ '.

"My apprentice and me found this special kind of trees in the small wood in the north-west of the village. Two exactly, and you know what they are? They are torn down. Now in my years as a Witcher, I've seen something like this before, but only _like this_ , not exactly. Because the portals I've seen weren't torn down and snapped in half, which makes for a whole new problem itself. Because now we can't destroy it and it remains open. Seems a bit redundant, doesn't it? So, picture this: Not a 100ft away from the edge of the village lies an everlasting portal, which leads to an island filled with monsters, such as fiends and leshens, which are all the fun of the fair. Three people are dead, one mortally injured and that because of one little portal. And it's going to continue."

Elron was rather wondered by how talklative the otherwise taciturn Witcher was. In the faces of the villagers he saw worry and fear, but also rage as the murmuring got louder and angrier, "But is there no way to stop it?" the Alderman finally asked.

"Oh, there is... Here comes the punchline," Kaleb replied, "Portals like this don't just _appear_ , someone placed it there. Someone from this village. Or at least they hired someone to conjure it."

The murmuring became louder until there were protests and angry shouts, how the Witcher could accuse someone from this village to be willing to cause such agony. His look fell on the only silent soul here – Sarah. The young woman only looked at the ground, her face read worries, but she remained silent.

A large man with a face red of anger, not booze this time, stepped out of the crowd, swinging his fist in the air, "You are going too far to accuse any of these people! They are good folks, look out for each other, care for each other, but of course an emotionally numb mutant like you wouldn't understand it!"

Aggreeing chants built in the crowd of villagers and while the Elron had a worried look on his face, trying to defuse the situation and calm the people down, Kaleb just stood there, crossed arms, letting everything wash over him, not showing a single emotion. After a long minute he finally spoke up again, "You can shout all you want, but that's not solving your problem, now does it?" he said mockingly, "Don't worry, there _is_ a way to help you." the crowd grew quieter again, "First of all the kind person responsible for this will have to show themselves, then we have to find the conjurer and ask them nicely to dissolve the portal. However, this only works one way, as this is a very dangerous portal, it's bound to the conjurer and can only dissolve with them. Simply put, find the conjurer, kill them, kill the fiend, collect the pay and begone. That's my plan."

Noticable was that two people – exlcuding the still resting Roland – were missing from the crowd. Sarah and Samuel. Elron had kept his eyes on the fire red haired woman and saw her bursting out in tears as Samuel rose his word before running away and disappearing behind a curtain of angry villagers. When he returned his look to the Witcher, Elron apaled – the cat eyed monster slayer was gone aswell!

A rather long time passed before he finally found him. He stood on a small hill with a tree, staring into the distance, his two swords leaned against said oak.

.

"Do you know why Witchers carry two swords?" Kaleb asked. His tone was much different from anything his companion heard him say to this point. It was... sad.

"I don't seem to follow...?" Elron responded with a puzzled look.

"Silver for monster and steel for humans." the raven haired Witcher replied.

And while this wasn't exactly true, this has been the most common explanation. The silver sword was used for everything magical, while the steel sword was used for every non-magical creature.

"You know, it used to be so easy to differ – monster and man, but the lines are blurred, almost non-visible anymore. Some monsters pass you as you walk the streets to go shopping, or to take a stroll and one passes them without a second thought. 'That's a human, a person, just like me, I've nothing to fear from them.' If there's one thing I learned in my life, it's that the true monster is mankind. Monsters, beasts, magical or not, they act out of instinct, out of the will to survive, while humans have other intentions. Be it money, the favour of a pretty face, fame or just because they want to."

Though not being able to respond, Elron understood his point entirely. For the first time he learned how difficult the job of a Witcher was and it wasn't the last time that he was reminded of it.

"So, what now?" he finally asked his companion, to break the silence.

"I don't know," Kaleb responded, "Even if it's the most obvious choice, I can't accuse Samuel of being responsible for this mess."  
But you still think it was him."

"I do. But the folks don't, you heard them." His look fell on the tree portal.

"Is this normal for a Witcher's contract? For it to go like this?" the young man asked out of curiousity.

"Sometimes." Kaleb's expression, though Elron didn't see it as he stood behind the Witcher, signalised that he was sunken deeply in his thoughts, "You should return to the village. I want you to check on Sarah and Roland." he ordered.

Without an answer Elron walked back towards the house of said individuals.

.

Through the window he could see the young woman caressing her childhood friend gently. The two seemed to talk about something, however, it was too quiet to hear. He knocked on the door and shortly after she stood before him.

A faint smile on her freckled face, "Oh, good evening, Elron. Come in."

Inside he was met by a weak "Hello." from Roland.

"Hello, you must be Roland, I believe we hadn't had the change to talk since my companion rescued you." he said politely.

"It seems so. Tell 'im thanks for savin' me ass back there. I don't know what I would've done without 'is 'elp." Roland said. From the tone and volume of his voice, Elron could hear that he was still quite weak. He probably wouldn't leave bed for another week or two, "I must apologize for the trouble me folks 've been causin' ye and the Witcher. They just aren't used to... well, ye know..."

"Mutants?" a voice finished the injured man's sentence. It was deep and gritty – Kaleb's voice.

"Well, I didn't want to say it like this..." Roland mumbled sheepishly, "Anyway, I owe ye my deepest thanks, Witcher, for savin' me."

"And I do too," Sarah added, "I don't know what I would've done without him."

"Don't mention it," Kaleb smiled weakly, "It's part of my job." his look fell on Sarah's hand, which was bandaged roughly, "What happened to _you_?" he wondered suspiciously.

"Don't worry, it wasn't Samuel if you think that. It happened earlier today when I was working in the garden. A roses thorn, when I was careless."

"I see. Indeed, those have given me one cut or another two. They can leave nasty wounds, who would've thought." Kaleb nodded aggreeingly before turning to his companion, "Elron, come on, let's not bother them anymore today."

And with that the two left the house again. Later in the tavern Elron couldn't help but overlook Kaleb's suspicious expression, "Everythin alright?" he asked.

"Did you notice?"

"Notice what?"

"She doesn't grow roses."

.


	6. A Witcher's Job Is

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5:** A Witcher's Job Is...

.

There are multiple kinds of fights. Show fights, demonstration fights and actual fights. A show fight, which is what you'd see in a theatre, when the actors would over exagerate their strikes and make everything look as dramatic as possible, like clashing of swords and precisely aiming for the sword to receive a nice clashing noise or the oftenly seen powerful over head undercuts, where the striker would take months to charge his attack, building up the power or something.

A demonstration fight is just to show the possibilities, for example, where you can strike when you're in a specific position and how and when, you get it. Sometimes instructors tend to get a bit too full of themselves and show their students how awesome they were in form of choreographed fights with twirls, wild swings, generally a display of their skills, a demonstration.

Then there were the actual fights. A fight can be over in mere seconds, using only one blow. It's about striking fast, striking precise and striking hard, don't let your opponent hit you, but hit them first as hard as possible. A real fight is not beautiful, it's not a work of art, it's about killing or be killed. A real fight is bloody, it stinks and it's not nice to look at.

A Witcher fights in a combination of all those three. They are fast, powerful, know exactly when and where to strike. Their kind of fighting, especially Kaleb's as Elron would later learn, resembles dancing, in a way. They do spins, pirouettes, spin their swords in their hands and all that without the loss of efficiency. Any normal attempting to fight like that would immediatly die, as they weren't trained in that specific style from the beginning of their training. Additionally to that come the Witcher's mutations which allow them to use this exotic style of fighting, because it delivers the most important part – the speed. And quick they are, those Witchers.

However, it seemed that they wouldn't always resort to fighting like this, as Elron learned to day as he had his first time seeing a Witcher fight. The fight against a monster, almost thrice the size of himself.

.

It was the late noon and Elron and Kaleb were waiting in front of the portal, both with their weapons in their hands. Kaleb was more than happy that he could use his silver sword, which wasn't stolen. There was a big tension in the air, yet the Witcher remained calm, not showing any emotion on his face, however his companion was nervous enough for the both of them. He was afraid of what was going to come out of there, afraid of the unknown.

"Elron, I can hear your knees shaking from over hear." Kaleb grunted annoyed, "If you don't want to fight, then go back to the village."

"No, I-I'm alright, I'll just think about something else." Elron sheepishly replied.

...

...

"Doesn't work, huh?" the Witcher asked mockingly.

Instead of proving the Witcher's point, Elron asked another question, "Then how do you calm yourself?"

"I don't have to, because I know what's going to happen and what's going to come out of this thing." The Witcher replied coldly, "That's a normal human fear, the fear of what you don't know. But, if it helps, close your eyes, breathe in through the nose, count to three in your head and then breathe out through the mouth."

...

"I don't think it worked..." Elron complained. Just then something strange happened, there was a distant scream, something like he's never heard before. It was similar to the roaring of an elk, yet it sounded more... monstrous. Everything went black all of a sudden, causing the young man to slightly panic – this must be the hypnosis!

"Stay calm!" he heard Kaleb call, "Just don't move until you see something red, then try to roll to the side."

His orders might have been vague, yet Elron knew that this was exactly what he had to stick to. Now he was looking for the smallest sign of red, as he heard rumbling and screaming accompanied by occasional hacking and grunting.

There it was!

He didn't know what it was, nor where he was right now, but that must be the sign. But all of a sudden he could see everything again, like before. But what he saw in front of him didn't resemble a fiend at all, no. It had long, red hair, freckles and tears in it's eyes – or her's. It was Sarah.

"What are you doing here?!" Elron shouted louder and probably angrier than intended.

"It's Samuel, he's gone insane! I just managed to-"

"Elron, get away from her!" Kaleb bellowed as he dodged the large arms of the beast.

"Why, she obviously needs our help!" the young man protested, pointing out the girl's despair.

As he turned around, back to face her, he caught her looking at the fiend, she didn't flinch at all, "We have to get you somewhere save." he said. Just then he saw a black flash and as he realized what happened, Kaleb had already snatched the red haired woman and dragged her to the fiend. She was protesting, fighting, desperately trying everything in her force to free herself, "HELP!" she screamed, "Please don't kill me, Witcher! Please, leave me be!"

"What the hell are you doing?!" Elron barked. But it seemed as Kaleb was ignoring him, his look cold as the White Frost. Finally he let go of her, throwing her forward, in front of the fiend. The Witcher however, wouldn't let the fiend hit her, before he quickly swung his sword sideways at her. The blood was spirting all across as her head flew to the side. An orange vortex apeared in the center, signalising that it would close.

Now only the fiend was left.

As the dreadful monster swung it's claw towards the Witcher, he simply dodged the incoming blow, swining his sword in a spinning movement above his head, cutting of the hand, while running towards the beast, which screamed in agony, awaking the entire village, which soon would gather in a safe distance.

In the meantime Elron couldn't believe what has just happened... It was Sarah after all, it was her who conjured the portal and brought all this harm to this village!

Kaleb had climbed up the fiend's back, thrusting his silver sword into it's right shoulder, before jumping forward, dragging his sword with him, causing a massive cut in the beast's torso. The fiend was on it's knees, screaming loudly – it was time for the finish...

With a furious scream, the Witcher charged forward, powerfully thrusting his blade right through the third eye in the middle of the fiend's forehead before pulling it out and making a vertical cut across it's face.

The fiend was dead.

As was Sarah.

.

Elron expected cheering as the job was done and the portal was sealed, but instead there was silence, shock, fear. They saw the woman's body lying beheaded on the floor as the blood-covered Witcher walked away from the fiend's corpse, still sword in hand. It was truly a dreadful sight.

For Kaleb it was different. He didn't see the two corpses behind him, he didn't see a bloody Witcher, he saw a scared village, with hate in their eyes. It was one of those contracts, was the only thought he had.

It was another story without happy ending, without a saved damsel, in fact it was the entire opposite. The _damsel_ was dead and turned out to be responsible for all that in the first place, but who would believe him. The only thing that counts for them is that he beheaded a beloved member of their community and everyone saw it.

As he got closer to the crowd, he heard the people's shouting grew louder and angrier as they chanted 'murderer', 'mutant' and other insulsts, which he had heard millions of times before. Elron was simply speechless.

"Sarah conjured the portal." Kaleb began, "It was the only way to stop it. I'm sorry."

"Your apology is worth nothing, mutant," the Alderman mumbled heart broken, "You won't receive payment, and you can count yourself lucky if we don't report you."

Kaleb didn't say anything, "Never return to this village again. Do you hear me?! NEVER!" the old man finally shouted.

For a moment everyone stood still and eventually the Witcher turned his back to the village, "Come on, Elron, let's go." he mumbled.

Elron complained as the two men, still horseless walked on the lonely road towards their next destination, "How can they be so ignorant towards you?!" he questioned angrily, "You saved all of their sorry asses and yet they won't pay you, nor will they thank you for your services?!"

"At least you've got a proper weapon out of the situation." Kaleb replied sadly smiling.

"Does this happen often?" the young man finally asked.

"It's part of the job."

.

 _A Witcher's job is to kill monsters. It doesn't matter from whom they receive the contract, they just do it and receive their reward..._

 _A Witcher doesn't debate, what they think is right or wrong doesn't matter as long as the coin is right... Once the job is done, they leave again, to be forgotten as quickly as they left._

 _Witchers don't consider the outcome of their actions, for it's not part of the contract. And sometimes the wrong choice ends bloody._

 _Folk don't expect Witchers to save them from themselves..._

 _._


	7. A Small Town Amidst The War

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6:** A Small Town Amidst The War

.

Their path took them to the north, to the city of Novigrad. It's been a couple of weeks now that they've been on the road, doing various jobs, mostly smaller ones, and constantly being on the search of Kaleb's sword. Why the Witcher won't just replace it is a question that was yet left to be answered. Velen still suffered greatly from the war and almost everywhere they went they encountered abandoned battlefiels full of rotting corpses, rusty armour and weaponry and ghouls feasting on the decaying bodies.

Having spent most of his time in the city of Oxenfurt, Elron didn't think that it was actually this horrible and that he'd ever have to encounter anything like it. However it still astonished him how his companion was able to shrug it all off that easily and without any second thought. Sometimes, in the late hours when they'd have gathered around their campfire they'd swap stories with each other – well, it was mostly Kaleb who was sharing his experiences.

Tonight was such a night.

"Sometimes, when I close my eyes I can still see her." Kaleb began, upon being asked about one of his stories, "I think it must've been four years ago, it was a small town near the border of Temeria and Redania, at the Pontar and me, who was just traveling along, doing Witcher's work, got dragged right into the middle of all it's problems."

.

 _It was in this small town, Ban Gleann, when it began..._

 _._

It was a gloomy autumn's day when a pale rider with raven black hair arrived in the town of Ban Gleann, sat on the back of a black horse with the severed head of a gryphon dangling from it's waist. His arrival attracted the attention of a lot of the local residents, as it was something like only few of them had ever seen. Yellow, cat-like eyes, scars on his face and some visible on his arms, which were shown through the torn bits in his old coat above which a black cloak was thrown and on his back two swords. It was odd enough that he carried two swords, but also on his back?

Never being left out of sight, he got off his horse, tied it to a pole in front of an inn and entered, seemingly oblivious of his spectators.

It wasn't any different inside, though most of the people turned their heads away from the unusual visitor after a short time, returning to their conversations and drinks.

He walked towards the barkeeper, a larger man with a big nose and a rough, brown beard, "What can I get ye?" he asked, "You look like ye could use a good drink, sir."

"I'd like to now where Benson Derkas is. I've returned from the contract." the stranger said.

"Ah, should'a known ye're a Witcher as ye entered!" he laughed, "It's the eyes that give it away, lad. Anyway, Derkas is probably upstairs in 'is room, like mostly. It's the third on the left."

"Thank you." the Witcher coldly replied, turning towards the stairs.

"Oi, Witcher!" the barkeeper called after him, "Once ye're done, come back to me, I've got a drink with ye're name on it, on the house for gettin' rid of that bloody beast!"

The Witcher nodded and walked upstairs.

He entered a poorly lit hallway with four doors on either side and continued to walk towards said door, knocking on it.

 _"Who's there?"_ he heard a muffled voice from behind the door.

"I've completed the contract." he replied.

 _"Splendid! Please, come in, Witcher!"_

 _._

Soon afterwards the door was opened and an short, elderly man with round glasses and curly, greying hair stood in front of the Witcher, "Kaleb, it's good to see you." Benson said warmly, patting Kaleb on the shoulder, "But what happened you, my boy? You look terrible."

"Tough fight." Kaleb replied, "Potion's still wearing off aswell."

"You're bleeding..." Benson mumbled, "Here, sit down, I'll get my equipment."

"Thanks, but that's not necessary. I'll survive, Benson."

"Stubborn as ever, just like Geralt." the old man giggled, "But I'll have to insist, sorry."

Accepting his _dire fate_ , the Witcher ignored the old man starting to patch up the large cuts on his right arm, "By the way, where is he anyway?" the Witcher asked.

"I'm not entirely sure. I heard he's in Flotsam, on the other side of the Pontar." Benson replied, "Together with Triss Merigold."

" _Triss_?" There was disgust in Kaleb's tone, "So she still tries to pinch him from Yennefer?"

"I wouldn't call it that. I think they are just good friends."

"With extras." the Witcher added pejoratively.

"Besides," Benson continued, oblivious to the comment of the raven haired man, "When was the last time you heard anything about Yennefer? I heard she died."

"Nonsense!" Kaleb hissed, "Why would you assume she died? I don't know where she is, but I'm certain Yennefer of Vengerberg is still out there."

"You're probably right, we won't get rid of her that easily." the old man joked agreeingly, "But the two are not together at the moment, that's for certain."

After Benson was done, Kaleb put his coat, which was still torn, "Looks like this will be another scar." Benson commented.

"Seems so. I'll also need a new attire."

"There's a great tailor in this town. If you care to stay for a few more days, you should definitely pay her a visit and make an order."

"I believe I could, won't hurt." Kaleb agreed.

Benson threw a small pouch filled with coins towards his Witcher friend, who easily caught it, "That should cover it." he said.

Kaleb nodded and then left again, "Until next time, old friend." he replied.

.

Downstairs a small group of guards, maybe three people, just entered the inn, looking for the Witcher, "Oi, Witcher!" one of them called, "Is that your horse?"

"It is."

"We need you to bring it elsewhere, the... um... the trophy is scaring the civilians." the soldier explained.

"Of course, I'm done here anyway." Kaleb replied, "I'll just have a drink and then I'll be off again, getting rid of that thing."

"Fair enough," the guard nodded, "I'm glad we could settle this matter peacefully."

It was obvious that all three of them were quite nervous upon seeing the cat eyed mutant.

.

The Witcher returned in the later hours of the day, the sun had just started to set and the people started to gather in the inns and taverns.  
Kaleb followed his friend's advise to visit the tailor. He couldn't walk around dressed in ripped clothes! The tailorshop was a rather small building, near the center of the town, it didn't really look like much to be fair, but the Witcher had learned not to judge something or someone on the first expression. It was something that he wouldn't want either, though it happened so frequently.

The sudden noise of the ringing bell at the door started, or better – alerted the Witcher, just out of instinct. The inside of the shop didn't look much better either, but the cloths and finished attires promised a master's work. It was a miracle how someone apparently that skilled would live in a shack like this, let alone in a town like this.

Upon his entering he could hear lightfooted steps approaching him from behind a wall, behind the counter. It wasn't long before a young woman, she must've been around 27, stood in front of him, looking at him awaitingly with her emerald green eyes as she brushed a strand of her hazel brown hair out of her face, behind her ear, only for it to be falling back shortly afterwards. She had a few freckles on her fair skin and delicate lips. Once more Kaleb wondered what someone like her would do in this jerkwater town.

"Sir?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as an amused smile etched on her cheeks.

"What?" Kaleb didn't seem to have noticed her upon having asked him how she could help him, as the Witcher was too busy studying the woman, "Oh, sorry, I'm a little unfocused."

She giggled lightly, "I can see that." an akward silence passed between the two smiling at each other, "Anyway, what can I do for you?" Kaleb noticed a faint blush on her cheeks, probably from the akwardness of this brief moment.

"As you can probably see, I need a new attire." the Witcher replied.

"Yes, but wouldn't you think, that a blacksmith would be more of a help, master Witcher? You see, I'm not really profound in the art of armourcrafting."

"Yes, I'd guessed that already. But I don't seek armour. I'm more of a moveability-type. Besides, any kind of armour part can be installed by myself."

"Very well then, I believe you already have a concept of what I should make for you?"

Kaleb nodded and took out a few pieces of paper on which were several scratches with some notes. The headline of the concept was 'Ursine Armour'.

The young woman looked at the sheets with interest and curiousity in her eyes, "I think I've seen this before. It's the armour of a Witcher school, isn't it?"

"It is, how do you know?"

"Oh, I've been around the block for a bit. Seen this or that, met this or that person." she replied.

Kaleb eyed her up and down for a short time, "What's your name, young woman?" he asked.

"Aliona." she said, "Aliona Mervay."

"Aliona..." the Witcher repeated, "It's a beautiful name, elven, I believe."

"True, I'm half elven actually, but most people wouldn't really notice. You know, my ears aren't that pointy."

"You're right, I would have merely suspected it."

"And what do they call you, master Witcher?" Aliona asked.

"Kaleb of Rivia, though it's more of a title."

"A title?" she repeated.

"Yes, because I'm actually from Toussaint, but I've been practically raised by another rivian Witcher, like a brother and thus I adapted his ways." the Witcher explained, leaning on the wooden counter, "That's an interesting story, indeed, Kaleb of Rivia. I've always wanted to know more about the infamous Witchers." she hurried around the counter and got next to the raven haired mutant, "Why don't you tell me more about yourself while we set the measurements?"

"I'd love to."

.


	8. Way Back When

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7:** Way Back When

.

"Wow, you have quite a lot of scars, sir."

Aliona was taking the measurements of Kaleb, which required him to strip down to his pants, revealing the lots of scars on his upper body, to which a few more shall be added in the passing of his adventure, "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"What, the scars? Not really," Kaleb shrugged in a rather careless tone, "Except for the ones I've just received, that is." he pointed to his right arm, which had just been stitched by Benson.

"Then I'll have to make sure to be extra careful." the woman joked smiling.

"I think I'll survive the gentle of a woman." the Witcher replied. He's survived nights with succubi, so he'd manage this easily.

It wasn't long until the work for the moment was done. Kaleb, charming as he was, invited the young woman to a drink or two at the tavern, on his expenses of course. Aliona agreed and thus it was settled.

.

The atmosphere in the tavern was cheerful, not too noisy, but more like a well earned break after a hard day of work. While the two of them chatted lightly and switched this or that story, Aliona couldn't help but notice all the looks the other guests were giving them, and especially her company. She couldn't help but feel rather uneasy, which Kaleb of course noticed.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine, it's just... don't you notice all those weird looks?" Aliona replied in a lowered voice, not wanting to have anyone hear them.

"Of course I have, why?"

"Doesn't this bother you, to be observed like this?"

Kaleb smiled sadly, looking at his mug, "You know, I've been around for a few years. You get used to it eventually."

Aliona nodded with a look of sadness on her face, "I imagine it to be a lonely life." she mumbled.

Kaleb didn't respond. At first he thought if he'd deny it, but to what use? She was right, it was lonely. It was no life he'd wish anyone, if he's honest, everywhere you go, you get looked at the same way. Either with hostililty or fear and that's how you get treated all the time, no matter what you do. Of course, there are a few exceptions where the folks would actually show gratitude and didn't despise Witchers that much. Kaleb noticed both extremes during his visit in Ban Gleann.

"I'm sorry," Aliona finally said, ripping the Witcher from his thoughts, "I didn't want this conversation the way it went."

"It's okay." Kaleb replied, "In fact, it's good to talk about such things once in a while. Kinda relieving." he noticed her cheer up with this glow in her eyes returning. He'd seen it a few times today and everytime it caught him, "But to be honest, the shirt itches a bit." the two laughed. Aliona had give him one of the shirts in her shop for the time being. He couldn't walk around with a bare upper body, lest he wanted to catch a cold or fever. The Witcher had left his sword and the rest of his equipment in the shop aswell.

"Why don't you tell me something about yourself for a change?" Kaleb suggested.

"And why would you want to know anything about a simple tailor in a jerkwater town?"

"Because you've caught my interest."

The Witcher once again caught a faint blush appearing briefly on her cheeks, "Very well then.." she replied, "I've grown up as a refugee in an elven rebell camp. My mother had run away from her home, where she was forced to do hard work while being abused by her father. She an elven rebell and so one thing led to another. Some time later I was born. The first few years we've been constantly on the run until we got separated in a battle. I don't think my father survived, at least I haven't seen or heard anything of him. It wasn't until I reached the age of thirteen, in human years, that it, that we arrived here and I've stayed here ever since."

She paused for a moment to take a sip of her drink, "I haven't done too much since then, except tailoring. For a short time I was helping out the local hunters, my father used to teach me a few tricks about hunting and stealth."

"You've never done anything else since you got here? You've never left to see the world out there?" Kaleb asked in disbelief.

"I guess, that sums it up." Aliona nodded, "I know, it sounds pretty stale, but it's been calm and I've prefered a calm life before a life on the road in constant fear of death."

The Wticher nodded thoughtfully, not looking up from his cup, "I can see why." he agreed.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked after a short pause.

"Sure, anything."

"What do you remember of your time before you were a Witcher? Or have you always been one?"

A sad smile etched itself on the corners of Kaleb's mouth, "I don't remember much. I think, I've started the trials when I was about seven years old. In human years, that is, it was before my mutation. As I said I'm from Toussaint, but I don't recall much of that life, I remember my drunk father and my desperate mother. One day, this old man came to our house, asking about a contract. And after the job was done, he received his payment, via _law of suprise_."

"What's the law of suprise?" Aliona asked, tilting her head lightly.

"The law of suprise dictates, that, whoever invokes it, is allowed to take whatever he finds once he enters the home of the quest giver. This can be anything, a sword, a vase, money, pets or even children. That's how most us became witchers."

"So let me guess, this man walks into your home and the first thing he sees is you?"

"Exactly. And to be honest, I think my mother couldn't be more reliefed. I'm certain, she was aware of the potential dangers, but she thought it was better than to grow up in a lowlife house with a constantly agressive drunk father." Kaleb continued, "You know, if one would ask me if I would make the same choice now, that I now better – I would say no. Just alone because of the trial of grasses, which is the first step of the training. The transformation. No matter what you think of, no matter how horrible, you'll probably never experience anything more physically painful than this. Most of the children die there, before the actual training even begins. I can't even begin to describe the torture we had to endure. Even worse, learning that the others didn't. We've been on this Witcher school for a few weeks before they started with the training, we've got to know each other, forged bonds. You can probably imagine, that, especially for someone at this age, this was a horrible experience." the witcher looked down on his table, "I remember being asked afterwards how painful it was on a scale from one to ten."

"What did you say?" Aliona asked, leaning forward, her eyes full of pity.

"I said nine." the witcher replied.

"Nine?" the half-elven woman repeated, "But didn't you say that this was the worst pain you ever had to endure?"

"Physical pain." Kaleb replied, "But I've heard about people talking about an even greater pain, wounds that cannot be treated, that cannot be healed. I can't quite tell you what it is that they were talking about, but I heard it was worse than any kind of physical pain. So that's why I decided to keep the ten for when I experience this."

Aliona, not being as emotionally numb as the witcher, due to his mutations, of course understood what he was talking about. She herself never really had a heart ache that bad, that she'd describe as the worst kind of pain, but a broken heart is always painful.

"You know, some of us complain about the ways of the witcher training," Kaleb began once again, ripping Aliona out of her thoughts, "One's voice being louder than anyone else's. Some call it annoying, I call it refreshing. He's been the first one to really question our traditions and would have everyone hear it." he giggled weakly, "Wonder what the damn hellhound's doing now." suddenly he looked up,

"Someone's coming."

.

Just then a younger man, probably in his early thirties, came storming into the tavern, his face full of horror as he looked around, scanning the area. He was calling for Aliona, and asking of someone had seen her. Obviously, he hadn't looked at the darker and less crowded areas, where the woman in question said, hidden behind the Witcher. Aliona rose from her chair to see who's been calling for her, responding to those calls, "I'm here!"

"Who's that?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just a good friend of mine." she sighed.

In front of their table stood a tall, muscly man, with a long, scruffy beard and long, dark brown hair. He had a scar going straight across his nose, from left to right and a fog eye, "Aliona, where have you been?" his deep voice was almost intimidating, the witcher found it rather impressive.

"I've been at my shop and then here." she replied.

The man looked over to her company, eyeing him up and down without saying a single word.

"That's witcher Kaleb of Rivia. He's a customer and kindly invited me to a drink here." she then turned to Kaleb, "Kaleb, this is Wyatt, he's a childhood friend and is a bit over protective sometimes."

Wyatt grunted as the witcher offered his hand, but finally took it anyway, "Nice to meet you." Kaleb said.

Wyatt then took a chair and sat down at the table aswell, "I was worried. The battle started again."

" _Again_?" Aliona repeated, "Won't they ever stop..." she sighed.

"What battle?"

"There's been a battle, not far from here between the temerians and the nilfguardians. You've probably seen, or smelled the battlefields." Kaleb nodded upon her explanation, "For a while we thought it was finally over, but seems not. It's ridiculous, if you ask me, plus it hinders me from getting the materials I need, the same goes for everyone else. This is why we have to be especially frugal with our remaining resources until they've settled this battle."

.

The next started rather uncomfortable as the witcher, who was leaning against a tree just outside the village was awoken by shouting and the sounds of clashing swords. He jumped up from his resting spot, only to find that there was no battle near, nor was there in the village, "Must be from the battlefield in the east..." he grunted, "Damn it." Then there was another sound. He heard light footsteps approaching from behind him, the direction of the village. As he turned around, he met emerald eyes and brown, braided hair, "There you are, master witcher! What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

"Sleeping. Even witchers need that once in a while." Kaleb replied blatantly.

"Yes, I know, but why out here?" Aliona asked.

"I don't like the beds in the inn." the raven haired witcher explained, rather asking himself, than responding.

"Your not exactly a good liar, witcher." the woman raised an eyebrow.

"A lot of people would beg to differ," Kaleb sarcastically responded, "But you're right... I guess, you could say I was trying to keep an eye on the town and make sure no one would get inside without me noticing."

"Oh, that's awfully generous of you, master witcher," Aliona joked, "But I see a problem, how will you protect us if you fall asleep?"

Kaleb walked up to her and put her right han on her shoulder, "Aliona Mervay," he said, "You seem to be forgetting something," A smug grin etched itself on his cheeks,

"I'm a Witcher."

.


	9. The Stench Of Iron

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8:** The Stench Of Iron

.

Aliona, accompanied by her silent friend Wyatt, decided to show Kaleb the battlefield, of course from a safe distance. The three stood on top of a hill, as the last bits of the morning sun rose in the sky, while down on the battlefield the soldiers slaughtered each other. The sight was horrible, but the stench was almost worse. Iron. There was a lot of blood on the floor and the ferrous fluid was giving of a horrible stench, mixed with feces, sweat and decay. Between the dead horses and soldiers were tired men fighting to their last bits, with ever five seconds another one falling.

"At least it looks like it's almost over." Kaleb mumbled in disgust.

"And the black sun will rise once more." Aliona added in a beaten tone. She didn't really care about the outcome of this war, no matter who'd win, the losses are still there, "Do you see, what we have been dealing with over the last weeks? Battles have been going on around this area for so long and so many injured or deserted soldiers have come to our town."

The witcher didn't respond as he looked sternly at the battlefield. He knew that the war had taken it's tolls on the land, yet he's never seen it happening. Seeing all those men throwing their lives away on the field, only because of power hungry lunatics, calling it 'serving their nation'... Kaleb was digusted by this thought.

"A woman like yourself shouldn't be anywhere near this atrocity," he finally said, "Just tell me what you need and I'll go get it."

"That's very generous of you, witcher," Aliona replied, "But I don't want you to get in danger because of me."

"Please," he grinned, turning towards her, "Getting in danger for someone else is my job. Also, this way my armour will get finished quicker, everyone benefits."

Aliona was suprised at how likely Kaleb was taking this, but agreed nonetheless, "Very well, I shall write you a list with the items I require. Just... just be careful, okay?"

The black haired witcher looked at her for a short moment with a warm smile, "I will."

After the witcher told Wyatt to escort Aliona safely back to the town of Ban Gleann, he wandered off, down the rocky path right towards the scene of bloodshed. He saw twenty men still fighting, definitely not more than that. There were soldiers on both sides retreating, either into the woods or back to their camps. Kaleb only then noticed that the area was actually larger than he thought.

"White myrtle..." he read, "What does she need that for?" without thinking any further, believing that she would know what she was doing, Kaleb went looking for the herb in question. He'd assume it somewhere on a field, rather than in the forrest and thus walked towards the battle.

And just as he assumed!

It didn't took him long to find the white myrtle, as it wasn't really an uncommon plant.

He stored everything he gathered in his small herb bag and went looking for the next item, which eventually lead him into the woods.

.

After some time of search, he came across a small hut, which looked rather abandoned and dilapidated, it seemed as though no one has been living inside of it for years. Yet the witcher heard hard breathing from the inside aswell as painful grunting. Two people. A trail of blood confirmed his hearing.

Slowly and silently he opened the door, when he was sure that there were no more noises coming from there.

"Who's there...?" he heard a weak voice ask. Kaleb looked around the hut. There was nothing special, rusting cooking ware, broken furniture, yet the stench was still there and worse than before. There were two people, one didn't move, the other one looked at him with horror, yet he couldn't move. Kaleb recognised their armours, temerian and nilfgaardian, "Who are you?!" the man in the temerain armour shouted painful. He was younger, maybe twenty, definitely not older. He had a large wound in his left side, which he was holding, desperately trying to stop the blood from flowing out of it.

"Stay calm, I'll help you." the witcher offered, slowly approaching the young man, "We need to get you out of here."

"I'm not going without of him!" the young man protested, pointing towards the passed out nilfgaardian.

"Why? He's a nilfgaardian." Kaleb wondered.

"What does that matter?" the temerian soldier replied, "He saved me from the battlefield, deserted by doing so. I owe my life to this man, even if I'm barely holding on myself." The witcher's attempt to lift the soldier up was hopeless, his wounds were too severe. Kaleb knew what was going to happen, but did the soldier?

Just then the soldier of the black sun returned back to the living. Apparenlty he was rather fluid in the common language and didn't have the typical nilfgaardian accent. After the situation was explained to him, he tried to raise to his feet and help his newfound friend. Apparently he was much less severe hurt, his chance to survive was higher, for the temerian, however...

"This won't work..!" he grunted in pain, "Just.. just leave me here.."

"Don't be ridiculous!" the nilfgaardian soldier protested, "We shall get you out of here!"

"No.." he sunk back against the wall, "Look at me, even if I'll make it back... what are the odds I'll survive?" he turned to the witcher, "Hey, get him to Ban Gleann, he'll explain the situation to everyone... Hopefully they'll understand."

Kaleb silently nodded, eventhough a part of him wanted to resist. He understood that there was no point, he'd just make him suffer. It seems the deserter understood aswell, though with mixed feelings and a heavy heart. Once they turned back to the temerian soldier, they saw that he wasn't moving anymore, the breathing had stopped and he looked into the air with an empty expression.

"Do you think they will believe me?"

Kaleb didn't look up from the body and shook his head, "No."

.

He then helped the soldier of the black sun back to Ban Gleann, where everything went about as usual, until they saw their newest visitor. It wasn't long before a big crowd had gathered in front of the two. In the meantime, Aliona rushed towards the wounded nilfgaardian, despite the protests of the other people.

"Why are ye draggin' this filth into our town, witcher?!" a man in the crowd barked, "'e's a nilfgaardian, we don't want 'im 'ere!"

"He deserted." Kaleb protested, "He helped one of your own people out of the battle!"

"And where is that one?!"

They had a point. The soldier died in that hut, yet the witcher spoke the truth, but how was he going to show them?

Suddenly the nilfgaardian sunk to his knees, clutching his right side, panting heavily.

"Have you gathered the herbs?" Aliona asked as she too got on her knees to treat the soldiers wounds at the spot. Kaleb nodded and handed her his herb bag.

"What are ye treatin' that plowing piece o' shit for?!" the first protests began getting louder as the crowd got angrier, "'e don't deserve no treatin'! Aliona back off o' him!"

The first guards started to appear on the scene, "What's the meaing of this?!" they bellowed.

"Witcher's brought a nilfgaardian to us and now Aliona wants to treat 'im, despite the plower killin' one of us, maybe more!"

"Aliona Mervay!" the first guard barked, "Back off!"

"We won't tolerate a nilfgaardian amongst our mids. You know what they do! You mustn't treat him, if he dies, so be it!"

The crowd murmured agreeingly.

Yet the woman never back off. She ignored the angry folks and just continued her work. Then Wyatt stepped out of the crowd to stand aside his friend and the Witcher, "Let her do her work!" the massive man shouted.

"Wyatt.. get away from them! You should do the same, Aliona!" the guards continued to try to persuade her. It was obvious that Aliona had a high reputation in Ban Gleann, otherwise they wouldn't try to win her back that hard.

Kaleb stepped in front of her, aiding as cover next to Wyatt, "Let her do her job. He's a nilfgaardian, yes, but he's still a man and don't you think, we've had enough deaths already? We should save anyone we can, regardless of who they are!" he protested loudly.

"Stay out of this, witcher! We'll get to you soon enough for dragging this man into our town! Let alone defending him!"

"He's probably a nilfgaard supporter!" roared the first angry shout at the mutant, which would spark a flame of rage in the villagers' hearts. It wasn't soon before they were not only throwing insults at him, but also apples, stones, dirt, anything they could find. Kaleb just let it hit him, his biggest concern was kneeling behind him, assuring someone else's life.

Just then he heard a new sound. Heavy panting, clanking, irregular footsteps coming from behind, accompanied by occasional grunting. He saw blue and white colours behind him, stained with dark red blotches.

It was the young soldier!

He had survived!

.


	10. Emerald Eyes

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Chapter 9:** Emerald Eyes

.

"Tommen!" an elderly woman ran out of the crowd towards the horridly wounded soldier, that had just passed the witcher aswell as Aliona, who was still taking care of the nilfgaardian's wounds, "I thought you were dead!" she wept as she wrapped her arms around her son. It was a truly heartwarming sight, thought the witcher as a warm smile spread on his face, even if only for a short time before he realized that the situation was still unstable.

"Yes!" Tommen began, "I am alive!" he turned around and pointed at the soldier in the black armour, "Because of this man! In the face of battle and death itself, he deserted from his troops to save my arse and drag me into a shack in the woods. He kept me awake, made sure I would get through and tried to heal me as good as possible, even valuing my life before his own. It's only because of his heroism that I stand here to tell you about it and I can't stand how you treat him, the witcher who carried him here after I told him so and the young healer! Please, I beg of you to treat the four of those people behind my back accordingly to their hero work!"

Then there was silence. For a time long enough to make the young soldier doubt to have achieved anything. But then...

"Aye!" the first man shouted, "I believe 'im! Tommen's a good lad, 'e'd never tell a lie, also lad's standing right there in front o' us!"

this comment sparked another flame in the hearts of the inhabitants of Ban Gleann – a spark of joy.

Suddenly they started to applaude and cheer, as they've now proof of the nilfgaardian's doings.

.

The drinks were cheap and cold this evening, just the except opposite of the atmosphere in Ban Gleann. Men were singing arm in arm, there was music, people danced and love was written in capital letters. It was a time to celebrate, because a long and exhausting battle was finally over!

However, it wasn't loud everywhere, there was this small tailor shop...

"Thank you," Aliona mumbled looking out the window, "For taking this soldier to the town and standing up for him. Not many would've done the same."

Next to her sat Kaleb, also looking outside upon the drunk folk merrily slandering through the streets of the town, "Don't mention it." he replied calmly, "I'm a witcher, almost everywhere I go I get a similar reaction, so it was nothing special. I'm just glad that he'll get through." he looked at the half-elf, "And that's because of you."

She blushed lightly while smiling, "I just... it was nothing special. I do this almost everyday and I had a lot of practise."

"If we're not going to agree on who's the hero here, then I'll suggest we call it fantastic teamwork." Kaleb joked.

"Then fantastic teamwork it is!" Aliona giggled.

The two spent their evening mostly sitting in Aliona's room upstairs of the tailor shop, talking, looking at the drunks outside. Kaleb started to feel something he hadn't feeled before, at least not this way, "Kaleb?" she finally asked after a while of silence.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever fallen in love?" Aliona asked, "I mean, not just a faint interest, but actual love?"

"Can't say I have." Kaleb replied, "Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to know if you know what it feels like. Because I've never really fallen in love before, like _really_ fallen in love. Can you imagine what it would feel like?"

Kaleb didn't respond for a short time, he was just looking at her, feeling strange, "I could think of something, I suppose. I imagine one feeling warm," he put his index finger in the middle of her chest, "Right here." he wasn't aware that this made the half elven girl a little uncomfortable, but she didn't mind all too much, "I've heard the expression 'to have butterflies in the stomach', which I think describes being in love. I think it's supposed to be a good thing, but if I had butterflies in my stomach, I would be rather concerned."

His naivety was making the brown haired tailor chuckle a little, "You numb-nut," she laughed, "It's just an expression, you don't actually _have_ butterflies in your stomach. It's meant to be a beautiful thing, because butterflies are beautiful. You know, you get a strange feeling in your stomach, when you look at someone or even think of this person and that's how you know you've fallen in love." Aliona explained.

Kaleb raised his eyebrow and tilted his head a little, "This sounds awfully confusing, don't you agree. You know, this reminds me of a contract I once had about a guy that had a lot of insects in his body, which escaped through his gut. It was a curse, because he slept with her best friend. I guess you could say, he literally had butterflies in his stomach."

Aliona rolled her eyes, but couldn't help a small chuckle escaping her mouth as she playfully punched him on the shoulder, "You idiot!"

Kaleb lost himself once more in her emerald eyes and her smile...

"What did you do?" the brown haired woman asked.

"What?" the witcher was thrown out of his thoughts again, "Um.. I didn't do much, if I recall properly. I remember to have sat the woman in question down after I learned about her actions and she explained the situation to me, ending on a promise to never in her whole life do anything like this again." He looked away from his new found friend, "You know, seeing her like this, so... miserable, so vulnerable. I knew she spoke the truth and I don't support cheating, so I let her go, not telling a soul about it."

"I think you did the right thing." Aliona gently put her hand on his as her look when from her hand to his eyes again, "I guess it's just a rumour after all, that witchers don't feel empathy."

"I don't know where all those rumours come from either." Kaleb agreed, "But it's one of the tamer ones."

"Oh yeah? What other rumours are there?"

"For example some people say we have two.. you know, why we care two swords aswell."

Aliona raised her eyebrows, "Haven't heard that one before.." she giggled.

"Then there are some which we are rather fond of. For example folks say a lot of positive things about certain skills in certain places."

"Oh?" Aliona bit her lips flirty, "You know, I've heard _that one_ aswell, my friend once met one and said it was... the best night of her life." her hand slowly moved up his hand in a walking movement, then his arm until it stopped at the top of it. The two shared eye contact for a long time, never saying or thinking of a single word. Until everything went black...

.

Kaleb decided to stay for a few more days to help clean up and to get the town back on track. Of course those weren't his only reasons, his main reason was the most beautiful mistake he'd ever make.

It was a regular day, windy, leaves falling down the trees, grey clouds – just what you'd expect in autumn. Kaleb and Wyatt were out near the old field, where they'd look for remains of beloved ones gone missing, or in the best case, those people still being alive. It didn't look good, though and everyone knew it, even if no one wanted to say it out loud. The witcher started to like his silent companion, seeing and accepting him as a friend aswell and Wyatt did the same, even if he didn't express it. The big man always had troubles trusting others, especially ones that would get close to Aliona, but this time it was different.

"How is the armour?" Wyatt asked.

"Wonderful!" Kaleb replied more than satisfied with Aliona's work, "It fits perfectly and does everything it's supposed to. Also it's suprisingly light."

"Well, she had more than enough time to study your body, witcher.." the massive companion joked. Kaleb laughed. Aliona wasn't really keeping a secret of what had been going between the two, especially not towards her brother-like friend.

Kaleb's look fell on the big axe, strapped to Wyatt's back. It had caught his attention since he first saw it and wondered what the deal with it was. Honestly and without any ill thoughts, Wyatt didn't look like someone that would possess such a noble looking piece of weaponry. It was obvious that a master must've crafted it, probably dwarven, guessing by the various ornaments and carvings it was made in Skellige. Kaleb remembered his companion mentioning briefly that his family was from Skellige, but that his grandfather left the islands for whatever reason and they've stayed here ever since. He doesn't remember much of his family, growing up as an orphan by the age of five.

"Ghouls." Wyatt pointed at three of those disgusting creatures, feasting on some dead bodies, "Attack them?"

"Please, go ahead." the witcher replied gesturing him to go first.

Wyatt grabbed his axe and instantly stormed towards the ghouls, followed by the witcher, who had his left hand on his sword strap. The first strike met the monsters by suprise, cleaving the first one clean in half after the giant axe rained down on it like a lightning. Kaleb then drew his silver sword, making a swift turn, jumping in the air while making a pirouette in such quick fashion, that the second ghoul didn't even see him spin – it was already too late when a diagonally swung silver blade cut through the rotten flesh, making it's blood spurt out of it before it collapsed.

Kaleb and Wyatt both looked at the remaining ghoul baring their teeth viciously, "Honour's all your's, friend." Kaleb said.

Wyatt nodded acceptingly and swung his axe horizontally at the ghoul, which dodged at the last second, rolling to the side before jumping at him, arms and claws extracted – when suddenly...

A sharp sound could be heard, followed by the noise of pierced flesh and a quiet hissing – like when silver touches the skin of a monster. The silver blade had entered the opened maw of the ghoul and left it in the lower back just before the beast would touch Wyatt. Kaleb brought his blade down and used his boot to pull his blade out of the beast.

"Thank you..." Wyatt said with a slight tone of embarrassment in his voice.

"Don't mention it. It can happen to the best of us." Kaleb patted him on the back, "C'mon, let's head back, I think we've spent enough time on the field for today."

.

In Ban Gleann everything was going on as usual, people making trades, people making the first preparations for winter. It was noisy, rats hushing on the floor between the people, nothing usual for a medieval town.

The bell rung, signalising that someone entered the tailor shop. Not five seconds and a beautiful half-elven woman stood in front of her newest customer.

"How can I help you?" she asked optimistically and with big eyes.

In front of her stood a tall man with a dark hood, which, due to the shadow, disguised most of his face, only revealing a scruffy, dark brown beard. He had a muscular stature and wore a mostly brown leather armour. She had seen it before, but couldn't put a name to it. What betrayed him was the significant silver necklace dangling around his neck, baring the symbol of a snake, winding around itself multiple times. This must be a member of the witcher school of the viper!

"Apparently you're a witcher!" she commented, "But where are your swords, if I might ask?"

The stranger pulled his cape a bit to the side, revealing two scabbards with short swords in it, "We have specialised on shorter weapons."

"Ah, interesting! Anyway, what can I do for you, sir?"

He must've noticed her ears, "Elven? Half-elven, am I right?" he asked with a sudden hate in his tone, which slightly scared the half-elven tailor.

"Half-elven, yes..." she replied timidly.

"That smell.. Was there another witcher passing by recently?!"

"W-why do you ask?"

"Was there?!" he barked hatefully.

"Yes..!"

"Guess you have to do everything by yourself these days..." he hissed, drawing one of his short swords, "You rotten elves...! You are the reason why we are falling apart!"

"What are you talking about?!" Aliona was pushed on the ground as the witcher fell forward, thrusting his blade with him, when suddenly the door opened again.

Aliona felt a strange push, like a sudden storm. It pushed her attacker off of her and to the side, knocking over some of the mannequins.

"What's going on?!" It was Kaleb! The raven haired witcher held his sword in hand as he walked towards the viper school witcher.

"So, you're the other witcher, huh?" his hood had come down, revealing a viciously scarred face, cat-like eyes and messy, shoulder long hair. The witcher now drew both his short swords and stormed towards Kaleb who got into his blocking stance. But just after he did that, the viper school witcher drew the Aard sign and sent it towards Kaleb, who was caught off guard and had no chance of either blocking or dodging it. This Aard, he casted was much more powerful than anything Kaleb had ever seen before. It almost felt like an explosion, as it also tore bits of the wall with him and before he knew it, Kaleb found himself in the middle of the road. Out of the smoke he could see two blades springing towards him, this time he managed to block.

They pushed each other away, quickly followed by roll passing their respective opponent, only to spin back at them, which caused them to clash once more, "Not bad, wolf." the viper commented through his teeth.

Kaleb didn't respond and rather spun away again, making a pirouette, appearing like a steel storm. The viper had to dodge this manuever, "What's your name?" Kaleb asked.

"Corbett. Of Maecht. And you, wolf?"

"Kaleb of Rivia." the raven haired witcher replied coldly.

" _Rivia_..." Corbett repeated, "Interesting." he again rushed towards Kaleb, throwing one of his swords at him, which the wolf school witcher easily parried, driving the sword into the ground. However, he just then noticed that this was Corbett's plan all along!

The viper school witcher rushed past him, towards Aliona, grabbing her and holding his remaining sword against her throat.

"You know, it's almost a shame that I have to kill her. Such a pretty one. Also, who's gonna help me patch my cape now?" Corbett laughed viciously, "I bet it's been lovely fucking her, huh?! You're a disgrace to all witchers, you know that, wolf?!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Elves shouldn't be allowed to live! Don't you know what they have all done?! Think of the Wild Hunt! The white frost! It's all elven work! Even the cat school got corrupted by those pointy ears!" Corbett bellowed.

"And that's your excuse for killing any elf, or even half-elf you encounter?!"

Corbett hesitated for a moment, looking at Aliona. Suddenly he looked back up and grinned, "Yes!" he pushed Aliona forward, still holding her wrist, before turning her to face him as he thrusted his short sword through her.

"NOOOO!" Kaleb ran towards her, catching her before she fell on the ground. This smell.. there was poison on his blade!

Aliona was breathing weakly, she lost a lot of blood, which on impact with the ground caused a small hissing noise, like it had turned to acid. Kaleb tried to stop the bleeding, even if it burned his hand horribly, but it wouldn't help it.

"Come on, you have to be strong now!" he told her, trying to keep her awake, as tears filled his eyes.

"Stop it.. Kaleb.." Aliona mumbled weakly, "We both know I won't get out of this.." There was a weak smile on her face as she slowly raised her hand to cup Kaleb's face.

"Don't say that! I'll make sure you'll get ouf of this alive! You can't give up now, not like that..."

"Kaleb... those last days have been the best days of my entire life, thank you for... for everything.." Her hand slowly left his face and fell down on her body as her head tilted away with an empty expression on her face aswell as a single tear coming out of her eyes.

This was the day when Kaleb of Rivia forgot how to love. When his love was replaced by bitterness and his emotions got cold and numb.

He looked down on Aliona's body and almost inaudibly muttered one final word,

"Ten."

.

 _Witchers are told at a very young age not too engage in serious relationships._

 _'Be careful not to fall in love.'_

 _You'll always outlive them and then there will be pain. A witcher's live is lonely for a reason._

 _When I was asked how painful the trial of grasses were on a scale from one to ten I replied with 'nine', I saved the last number. I thought there must be a pain worse than this, but I didn't know of what kind._

 _Now I do._

 _._


	11. The Free City

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10:** The Free City

.

"I can already see the red roofs of Novigrad!"

.

Finally the two companions reached the free city of Novigrad on a warm and sunny day. It was about time. Their main goal, or at Kaleb's, was to find out something about those bandits. Who in hell would know something about a deadbeat bandit gang, you ask? Well, there's always a person with one or two ears in every place.

Their path took them through the houses in the outskirts of the free city, where the otherlings mostly lived. Everything seemed calm, people just went through their daily routines, not caring about the two strangers. Something relaxing for a change, certainly better than being ill-mindedly stared at.

"Finally within big walls.." Elron sighed relieved.

Kaleb laughed weakly about his companion, "Wuss."

Elron knew that this wasn't meant as an insult but rather light hearted teasing, something that had been occuring often on their travels.

"So tell me, what are we doing in Novigrad?" he asked, "You mentioned that you were looking for someone here."

"We're looking for someone who can help us find those bandits." the witcher replied.

"And who might that be?"

"Can't tell you right now."

"Alright then..." Elron mumbled, "You could at least tell me where we're headed."

Kaleb didn't even bother to respond this time. Elron already got used to the taciturnity of his companion, though it would really annoy him at times. It was the seriousness in the raven haired one's expression, that was somehow different than usual, it seemed more intimidating than usual and that couldn't mean a good thing.

.

They eventually reached a rather hidden wooden gate. Kaleb and Elron got both off their horses and the witcher knocked at the door – three times.

"Who's there?" A small shutter in the door opened and the brown eyes of a man looked at the two, "A witcher?"

"Aye, name's Kaleb and this is Elron." the witcher replied, "We need to talk to Bedlam."

The shutter closed quickly, followed by the rattling noises and the door being unlocked. But before the two could enter, the bouncer stepped out, in front of them, "Before you enter you'll have to hand over your weapons. For safety reasons, obviously." he said, "Also you'll need to pay a small entrance fee, for first time members. Don't worry, you won't have to pay after that ever again."

Kaleb nodded and gave the bouncer his sword and knives, "I've already payed that fee a while back. You can ask Bedlam, he knows me."

"Aye, I know you've payed. I remember every face that enters this place. But I was talking about your companion here." the bouncer pointed at the witcher's younger companion, who gave off a rather perplexed look, "Why do I have to pay for entering a place like this?" he questioned, crossing his arms, "This is below my dignity!"

Both Kaleb and the bouncer rolled their eyes, "Listen, kid," the witcher said, "Two options, you pay or you wait here, I don't give a damn."

The door closed with a loud bang as the two entered, leaving Elron behind, "What a rude breed of people.." he grumbled before deciding to take a stroll around the area, which he's never visited before, as his tutors would always warn him of visiting this particular area of Novigrad, such as some other shady areas.

On his way he eventually got to the harbour, where his astonished gaze met beautifully built ships, a bustling market, playing children, beggars, nobles, prostitutes and commoners. Elron had always been fascinated by the simple, sonder things in life, such as a regular day at a harbour. In his youth he would rarely leave his family's estate in the north east of Oxenfurt, because of the paranoia of both his parents, constantly lecturing him about the dangers of the world out there. Amongst those were the witchers.

Needless to say their teaching didn't achieve the desired effect, but rather the exact opposite, as Elron was fascinated by all the monsters and myths, the tales about dragons and knights in shining armour, rescuing the damsel in distress and of course witchers. His fascination for the mutant monster slayers began when such a witcher with snow white hair came to visit them to ask questions about a monster, that was terrorising a local village.

Elron remembered an awful lot of things, as he strolled through the streets of Novigrad, he even recognised some of the areas, one stood out in particular...

.

 _It must've been eight years ago..._

 _._

It was one of those hot summer nights, where the drinks were cold and the company warm. A young man, brown hair tied to a loose ponytail was getting himself in celebration of his friend's birthday.

"19! 19 god damn years! My friend, that's _the_ age!" he cheered as the group of six men drank on, laughing.

Yes, indeed, it was a fabulous time to be alive, for one there were no worries in the world, no tutors or parents to tell them what to do and what to leave. This was freedom!

The hours passed and the tavern got emptier and soon only a handful of people are going to be here.

"Well are you going to talk to her or not?"

Elron's head shot up, "What are you talking about?" He gave his friend, he can't remember who it was, a perplexed look.

" _Her_." the friend said pointing at a beautiful, strawberry blonde girl, who sat alone at the bar. Had been sitting alone for the whole evening. She had a few freckles on her face, a small, thin nose, light blue eyes. Her hair was in a french knot and reached down to about the middle of her back.

"C'mon, Ellie, I've seen how you've been looking at her the entire time." the friend went on, "Go talk to her, man. Make this your chance!"

"I.. I can't just talk to her!" Elron protested, "Think of anything that could happen..."

"Exactly! What's the worst thing that could happen? She could turn you down, end of story. There's nothing more that could happen." the friend replied, "Listen, we're only young once in life, so we should seize every opportunity life throws at us and make the best of it as long as we can."

Elron took a moment to consider, before he finally stood up and walked towards the young woman, "Good evening." he said.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asked.

"Um, no, but I was wondering. You've been sitting here all the time by yourself. I just wanted to offer you company." Elron explained, swallowing his nervousity.

She looked away from him and on the counter. Elron noticed a faint smile on her face, "Sure, I guess it beats loneliness."

"Splendid! Um, may I know your name?"

"Only if you give me yours."

He smiled widely, "Elron, nice to meet you."

"Emma, nice to meet you too."

.

After a short, lighthearted conversation the two decided to leave the tavern and stroll through the streets of the free city of Novigrad. It was a warm night and the few lights of the city glowed beautifully, emitting the empty streets with their light and warmth. Amidst this, two souls, chatting, laughing.

There was certain tension in the air, exactly what Elron was hoping for and he was happy that it had been working out as good as it has until now. It felt like he knew her for years, for eternities now, like they had met before, maybe in an earlier life.

They stopped underneath a lamppost, near the harbour. They heard the calming sound of the waves and nothing else, not a single voice, no steps, only the two of them.

"It's been a lovely evening." Emma said, holding both his hands.

"It has been indeed." Elron agreed, "Thank you for deciding to join me."

"Please, how could I ever turn down someone like you?" she replied flirty, "But there is something I haven't told you the whole time."

Elron had a bad feeling about this, though he was hoping for nothing too terrible. It was the way she said it that scared him..

"This is my last day here in Novigrad. Or the entirety of Velen itself." she began, "My father has got a new job as advisor in Nilfgaard, in Baccalà, which is why we have to move. We'll depart tomorrow."

"What?! But.. you can't! Not after tonight, not after we've _just_ met!" Elron protested.

"I don't want this either, but I have no other choice.."

"Then I shall come with you! I shall never leave your side!"

Emma shook her head, "I fear this is not possible. See, you have a whole world ahead of you, free of responsibilities! Don't do this, but travel the world, make new acquaintances, venture through the lands, but don't settle for someone just yet.."

"But..." Elron understood that protesting any further would be of no use, "I knew this would end in regret.."

"Why is that?"

"Because I have fallen in love with you!" he exclaimed, louder than intended.

Emma remained silent for a moment, "I... don't think I don't feel the same, Elron.. I feel the same for you, but I can't do such, as my responsibilities require me to leave with my family."

"I see, I can't persuade you, Emma.." Elron lowered his head, "Then this is goodbye, I fear? It was nice, having met you and I hope that we can catch up to where we left off sometime."

"Me too, but until then... Let's give each other something to remind ourselves."

Emma pulled herself up, clinging to Elron's collar, who still had to realize what was happening. He decided to let it happen and closed his eyes, as she did, as their lips got closer to each other, before...

.


	12. Fancy Dressed Pig

**Disclaimer: The Witcher and every character aswell as location, that is not created by myself belongs to CD Projekt Red aswell as Andrzej Sapkowski, the original author of the books.**

 **Reviews and ConCrits are always welcome!**

 **.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11:** Fancy Dressed Pig

.

"There you are, kid!"

.

Elron got ripped right out of his thoughts by the gruff voice of his travel companion. As he looked around he saw the witcher in question walk towards him in a rather fast pace. The expression on his face promised nothing good coming for the young man.

"Come now, we've got our destination." the witcher grunted.

"Wha- what destination? Did you find your contact?" Elron asked.

"Not yet, but we'll see to that." Kaleb replied, "We're going to the bathhouse."

The bathhouse was a lot larger than Elron remembered it, probably because it's under a new lead. A mysterious man, as they say. He can't recall knowing anyone, that would know this person. Maybe Kaleb did?

He didn't dare ask, seeing as the witcher's mood wasn't exactly showing signs of talklativeness.

Inside they were asked to leave their weapons at the entrance, aswell as their attire, leaving them only in towels. This was the first time Elron got to see the other scars covering the witcher's body. As expected, there were many covering his upper body, especially the left arm. One of those stitches stood out. The stitches went around the entire arm, right in the middle of his upper arm, like it had been cut off and sewn back together.

It left him wondering how long he's been living this life as a witcher and how many creatures and monsters he encountered. Just the thought about how many digits this number would have made him feel a cringe on his spine.

Cute giggles, blushing faces, young, soft skin, slim bodies. This is what met the two of them after they entered – amongst other, less pleasant things, that is...

Elron noticed that most of the other guest's attention was drawn to his scarred traveling companion, Kaleb. However, the witcher in question did not seem to care, simply ignoring any compliments or invitations thrown at him by the mainly female audience. He had a strict goal.

"So, um... Kaleb, who are we looking for?" Elron timidly asked.

"A man that goes by the name of Sigi Reuven, maybe you've heard it before. He runs the place." the witcher explained.

.

"Sigi Reuven?"

A woman's voice came from behind them. Kaleb heard that she was approaching, though her footsteps were much quieter than the rest of any of the other visitors. He's heard this voice before.

Elron turned around first, his eyes met a beautiful, young woman with green eyes. Never has he hated towels more for the view they were prohibiting him to have.

"Haven't you heard the latest news?" she continued, "Well, by now it's an old hat, it's been almost three years now.. since he died."

"And I suppose that you wouldn't happen to have been involved in this matter?" the witcher asked, still not having turned around.

"How would I? I had much more pressing matters to take care of. I bet you heard the stories." the woman replied.

Elron's look had manifested itself on the scar on her face. He wondered how a woman like this would end up with a scar such as this one, but he didn't dare ask right now.

"How's the scar?" Kaleb suddenly asked, entirely to the suprise of his comrade.

"Oh you know scars. Some of them don't heal to good." she replied, a rather mischievious grin spreaing lightly on her cheeks. Now Kaleb turned around, "Elron, we're done here." he said plainly, the two of them passing the young woman, "We'll meet up outside." he whispered into her ear as they left.

As the two waited, the green eyed woman slowly stepped outside to join them, her ashen hair being made even more prominent in the light of day.

"Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon." Kaleb said, "How long has it been?" the woman in question jumped into his arms, embracing him warmly, "Seven years at least!" she replied.

"Elron, this is Ciri, you might've heard of her as the lost daughter of Emhyr." the witcher introduced.

"The-what?!" quickly, the young man kneeled in front of her, but was almost immediatly told not to, as it would raise to much attention.

"Because, she went kind of undercover." Kaleb explained, "I recall having told you about the events on Udvik. News spread about the death of Duny's daughter and heiress to the throne of Nilfgaard."

"Indeed, you have." Elron nodded, "I am sorry, I was simply caught off guard."

"Forget about it," Ciri replied, "But I suggest we'd head for another, quieter location."

.

"You never told me you knew the heiress to Nilfgaard's throne." Elron whispered to his companion, making sure that only the witcher in question would hear it.

"Well, the topic never came up." Kaleb bluntly replied, "And I'm not a big talker."

"But I thought she was dead? Died on a hunt after she decided to become a witcher and abandone the throne and her father."

"She isn't, is she."

"Ye-yes, but.."

"What? Would you rather have her dead?" Kaleb raised his eyebrows, though this question was obviously a sarcastic one. Seeing his companion blush nervously and desperately looking for a way to word him out of this conversation amused the raven haired witcher.

It wasn't long before they once more left the city, though they would not go too far, as the witcher had decided to spend some time within Novigrad's walls, thinking that Elron would more than welcome this change of pace and environment. He'd also look around for names. Maybe Ciri could help him.

"So, what brings you two to Novigrad? I suppose you're not taking a break from being a witcher." the ashen haired woman asked.

"True." Kaleb replied, "I'm looking for the man that took my steel sword. He and his band of brigands."

"Your steel sword? You mean your dearest Allie?" Ciri smirked.

"Who told you that name?" Kaleb questioned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"No one, but it's engraved on your empty sword hilt, so it was merely a wild guess."

the raven haired witcher sighed and looked aside.

"How come," she went on, "Someone like you to have lost their steel sword to a group of bandits?"

"I was on a contract, in the middle of a fight with a leshen. I've noticed them having sneaked up, but too late. The leshen got in the way and thus my sword was lost." Kaleb explained, "However, I've managed to get a good look at one of them, I'm assuming they are dressing similarly."

"And what makes you think that?" Elron wondered. Kaleb turned around and gave him piercing look. "If I may ask." he added quickly.

The witcher rolled his eyes, "The way they acted was too organized. Their uniforms, or at least the one I saw stood out from anything I've ever seen on common bandits. There is something unique about this group..." he explained.

"And let me guess, you wanted to ask Dijkstra if he could help you find them? Because he knows everything and everyone."

 _"Dijkstra?"_ Elron thought. Who was that supposed to be? Weren't they looking for a man called Sigi Reuven?

"That was the plan," Kaleb confirmed, "Until we've met you and you told us that he had died."

Ciri shrugged her shoulders, seemingly careless, "He had it coming."

"Apparently." Kaleb's carelessness suprised Elron a lot. He expected a different reaction, shock, anger, confusion, not.. _apathy_. Kaleb continued to ask Ciri if she knew anything about this group, or knew anyone that might. Unfortunately she had only little knowledge and a few wild guesses but no real names. In total the only thing she could attribute was 'I've seen someone like this before', which obviously didn't help anyone.

.

The hours passed, Kaleb and Elron, accompanied by the young witcheress walked through the streets of Novigrad, where Ciri put them on the most recent state of things. Kaleb couldn't help but notice how Elron didn't seem all too attentive, but rather sunken in his thoughts. He decided not to rip him out of it, as it seemed as though Novigrad had a lot of meaning to the young man. Kaleb remembered Elron telling him about a volatile love, a wonderful night and his first kiss.

The witcher didn't make himself too much out of love, thinking it would just get in the way of his profession. It would weaken him, make him vulnerable, so he decided not to care, rather living numb. It wasn't always like this, though.

"And thus we've reached today." Ciri said finally.

"Well, doesn't seem like too much had happened since I last checked." Kaleb mumbled rather disinterested.

"You say this like it's a bad thing," the woman commented, "Are you not happy that it's been calm for a change? That there have been no wars or intrigues?"

"It's not that I'm not glad that the war is over. I merely find it stale. Uneventful," the witcher replied, crossing his arms, "But it could be worse."

"For example?" Ciri wondered, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"Have you noticed the sudden absence of witchers? When was the last time you heard of a fellow witcher, other than me?" he remarked.

Indeed, there has been no word of the mutant monster slayers in years. After the events regarding the Wild Hunt and the child of the prophecy everything went dead silent around the witchers.

"I have. In fact I've been wondering where everyone it quite a lot." she replied, "I know that Lambert and Keira Metz ended up together, that Eskel traveled east and that Geralt and Triss moved to Kovir, where he retired."

Kaleb's eyes shot up, right into the green eyes of Ciri, "Triss?" he repeated, "Triss Merigold?!"

"Yes.." Ciri replied rather questioning.

"Why would he do that? What's become of him and Yennefer?" the witcher questioned.

"Don't ask me." she replied, "Let's say it was... complicated between them. She traveled into the opposite direction."

"And here I thought the two were unseperable..." Kaleb grunted.

Ciri shrugged her shoulders, "You know how it is.." she said,

"Love can be a complicated thing."

.


End file.
